Crossed
by Colaco
Summary: An ex-Rocket operative hiding a dark past is running for her life. A young, clumsy kid is looking for adventure. When these two people are put together by seemingly unrelated events, they are forced to accomplish the impossible: take down Team Rocket.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note****: Hey guys! Reviews would be greatly appreciated! And by greatly appreciated, I mean greatly needed. I just want to see what others think of my "work". Just sit back, relax, and enjoy!**

**Disclaimer****: Do I honestly have to do this at the beginning of every chapter? Do you really think I own Pokemon? Well, I don't. **

The ocean's harsh winds whipped up the year's final leaves; they danced about the dismal city. The wind played with the trash that was littered throughout the city. A plastic bag tumbled across an empty street, followed by other miscellaneous trash. A few early Christmas advertisements were blown into a sketchy alley, never to be read again. The darkening clouds consumed the top floors of the towering Department Store. A cold drizzle fell, making the city even more miserable. The smell of noxious car fumes mixed with fresh graffiti filled the frigid air. Besides the intense light given off by the casino, the entire city was cast in a gloomy shade of gray; typical for a November evening in western Johto. Hoards upon hoards of pedestrians wandered the dreary streets. They gripped their umbrellas and shopping bags as they scurried down the cracked sidewalks, trying to avoid the murder of Murkrow that circled overhead. The constant moan of the cars locked in traffic reverberated off the skyscrapers of Goldenrod; the horns echoing throughout the entire city.

A figure moved through the sea of people, its pale face and long, striking red ponytail hidden behind the shadow of a black umbrella. It moved swiftly; smoothly weaving between the pedestrians. Its black outfit acted as camouflage. Tightly clutched in its trembling hand was a Pokeball, shrunken to its smaller default form. As the figure continued past the Department Store it picked up speed; its movements became increasingly erratic. It collided with a few commuters, generating some angry shouts and swears. The figure seemed unfazed; determined to continue forward.

In the distance, under the hum of the city, the figure could hear footsteps. They were different, and the figure knew it. They were angry, forceful, determined. As if they were following someone. The figure's mind exploded with alarm.

At this point, its pace was almost a jog. Its grip on the Pokeball tightened. It kept moving faster and faster, pushing past everyone in its path. It began to panic; its breaths labored and shallow. Suddenly, it whisked to the right. Without even waiting for the signal it dashed across the street, narrowly avoiding a taxi and its livid driver. The footsteps grew faster, louder. The figure was now in a sprint. It dropped its umbrella, yet it kept going. Rain splashed against its glasses, clouding its vision. The Pokeball enlarged in the figure's hand. The footsteps were angry, they were coming.

_Damn it!_

"Go, Xyla!" the girl screamed as she threw the Pokeball into the air. The crowd immediately scrambled in fear as a purple, X-shaped bat emerged from the blinding flash of light. The girl and the Crobat bolted down the now empty sidewalk. Panic overrode her instincts. She couldn't breathe. Her lungs burned each time they took in the frigid air. The footsteps grew louder. She wanted to scream: it was following her. The Crobat flew right beside her, struggling to stay airborne at such an unfamiliar speed. They were passing everything in a blur. She could feel the footsteps crashing right behind her. She had to scream. This was all wrong. Rain pelted against her face, mixing with tears. Suddenly a figure bolted around her, stopping only inches ahead. She slid to a halt. Fear consumed her. She could see the grin on its dark face. Her heart nearly stopped. She was gasping for air.

"Going somewhere?" the shadow scoffed, but she could barely hear it over the screams of the pedestrians. A ball in the shadow's hand emitted a flash of light from which a spherical Pokemon emerged. The shadow's Koffing instantly shot at her own; its speed incredible. The girl's Crobat could not avoid the sudden attack. They collided, the purple sphere released puffs of poisonous gas. Her Pokemon, barely injured, circled around its opponent. She had to think of a move and fast before the shadow hit again. Her mind was blank; all of her logic replaced by terror. The enemy's Koffing continued to strike, its attacks vicious and unrelenting. The girl's Crobat had no choice but to take the blows as its Trainer, its only friend, would not give it a command.

_Think! Damn it, think! _

But she couldn't. She knew what she had to do but couldn't. Everything was happening so quickly, she could barely react. Her body was frozen, her lungs on fire. The words "Steel Wing" were on the tip of her tongue. She couldn't speak. Her Pokemon could not fight back without her. Her Crobat was struck with Sludge Bomb after Sludge Bomb. The barrage would not stop. The toxins were taking a toll on the Crobat; it could barely flap its wings. Its face was twisted in agony. However, the girl stood watching her only friend get beaten down. Everything was a blur. Emotionless, the shadow shouted commands.

Her Crobat was done; face down in a murky puddle. Her purple wings were tattered and broken, her skin cut and bruised. The shadow snickered and withdrew his hideous Pokemon. The rain picked up, obscuring her vision even more. Hypothermia was setting in and she knew it. Her hands were white, almost blue. Teeth chattered. The shadow nudged the Crobat with his foot, laughing as she stomped it into the mud. It wasn't moving. The girl stood there as the shadow silently laughed; drowned out by the crashing rain. It was then that she realized it was over. Her life was finished. She would die, standing in an ankle-deep puddle in the middle of the city. The city where this all started. The wrong decisions, the betrayal, the death, the misfortune; everything led up to this point. Countless emotions filled her empty head. Her fear spiked. She was shaking uncontrollably. This was it. She had been running from this moment, her destiny, for far too long. She had to accept it. The flash of the knife blade brought her back to reality. The ominous shadow before her revealed the sinister weapon he had been hiding in his black trench coat. He drew closer. He was so close; she could smell his putrid breath. It was hot, almost like fire. She could see her dismal reflection in the silver blade. She was begging for death at this point. She glanced at her Pokemon, her friend. Her only friend. Her best friend. Her partner was probably dead by now, having been motionless for a few minutes. It was her fault. Everything had been her fault. And she knew it.

It all happened so fast. In a blur, she was in the puddle. An unfamiliar, excruciating pain exploded in her abdomen. The scream was caught in her throat; shock took over. She could feel the icy blade cutting through her, with each cold slash more numbing than the last. She was done for; she knew it. She could feel the warmth seeping through her soaked uniform; the crimson blood matching the color of the large "R" in the center. It was over before she knew it. She could not see anything, for her hair was cast in front of her eyes, but she could hear panicked footsteps fading off in the distance. Everything was still. Individual droplets of rain were frozen in midair. Leaves were stopped in mid-tumble. All attention was to her. Dozens of eyes were watching her frail body in horror. Her final moments. Her 15 minutes of fame. This was it.

She closed her eyes.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note****: Again, please review! I don't know how I'm doing if I don't have any reviews! Oh, and I don't own Pokemon or anything. **

**Chapter 2**

Intense light flooded her eyes; she instantly shut them. After a few moments, she gradually opened them again. Her surroundings were still blurry. She knew for a fact that she was laying down on something comfortable, probably a bed. The room was completely white from ceiling to floor. Three windows lined the wall. She assumed the windows were open for she could feel the cold breeze filtering in from the outside world. Everything was so quiet, except for the occasional car horn in the distance. It was almost too quiet…

"Chansey!"

The girl's heart nearly burst. She bolted upright in the bed and frantically tried to crawl backwards, away from the giant pink oval that startled her. The girl's scream seemed to startle the oval as well; it flinched and waddled quickly out of the room. She tried to catch her breath, exhaling as loudly as she could. Her heart was still racing. She could feel beads of sweat dripping down her trembling cheeks. Suddenly, a familiar pain shot through her abdomen. She immediately fell to the bed, writhing in pain. Every nerve near her stomach area seemed to explode. She cried out, begging for help. She clutched the source of the pain: a small section a few inches to the left of her bellybutton.

A tall, slender figure rushed into the room. It was completely white, except for an area of pure red near its top. Everything was still so blurry; she could barely tell what the thing standing in her room was. The white figure approached the girl, who quickly held her hands up in defense. Calmly, the white figure pushed her hands down and moved toward her face. Suddenly, everything was clear. She could now see everything perfectly. Looking around, the girl now knew her surroundings: she seemed to be in a hospital room of some sorts.

_What?_

Just like that, everything came flooding back. The rain, the city, the panic, the chase, the battle. Her death. She could not breathe. What was going on? Was she in Heaven? She wouldn't be in Heaven, that's for sure. Hell? This couldn't be Hell, she thought. Hell is fiery and terrifying. Although, this was pretty terrifying. A million other thoughts filled her previously empty head.

"I-I…I thought I was…" she managed to get a few words out before the figure interjected.

"No, sweetie, you're alive," the figure's sweet voice trailed off. The girl turned to face the figure, which was now standing by the side of the bed. The figure was a young woman, judging by her curly pure-red hair and white high heels. She was obviously a nurse; she wore a clean white dress that fell to her knees and a small, white rectangular nursing cap. Her smile seemed to illuminate the entire room; giving off vibes of peace and happiness. The girl in the bed immediately settled down before the nurse continued, "I saw you get attacked by the guy, it unfolded right in front of the Pokemon Center! If you had been anywhere else…you might've," the nurse paused, "I'm Nurse Joy, by the way."

The girl in the bed was staring at the nurse, trying to ignore the agonizing pain of her wounds. Luckily, they were heavily bandaged; she almost looked like a mummy. She attempted to smile as if to thank the nurse. The nurse smiled back before revealing a clipboard from behind her back.

"Well now that you're finally awake, I need to get some information about you," she flipped through the papers clipped to the clipboard and began to fire off questions, "Name?"

"Liz…Liz Argenta…" she said as she tried to adjust her hospital gown.

After a few moments of scribbling on the note pad, Nurse Joy continued, "Age?"

"Nineteen…in July."

"Hometown?"

"I was b-born in Cherrygrove…b-but I live here in Goldenrod now…"

"Height?"

"Five feet, five inches"

"Occupation?"

Liz bit her lip. She couldn't reveal what her real job was, could she? She couldn't tell her that she was from Rocket. What would Nurse Joy do? Liz remained quiet and waited for the next question. Tension filled the room; the nurse was waiting patiently for an answer. After a few moments, the nurse glanced towards the corner of the room. Liz craned her neck to see what the nurse was looking at. Liz felt a shot of pain when she noticed what caught Nurse Joy's attention: a damp, bloody Team Rocket uniform lying on a white, foldable chair. The two exchanged glances: Joy's was of disappointment, Liz's was of timidity.

"It doesn't matter that you're part of," the nurse sighed audibly, "_them_…I couldn't just leave you out in the rain like that," she flipped through her papers and continued asking questions, "Anyway, do you have any Pokemon?"

Yeah, I have a Crobat. His name's…" Liz stopped.

_Shit! _

"Where's Xylo?" Liz screamed, almost falling out of the bed. Nurse Joy jumped back at the sudden outburst. She repeated the same phrase over and over again, increasing in volume and panic. Visibly frazzled, Nurse Joy ran out of the room to retrieve Liz's friend.

As soon as Nurse Joy left, another figure entered the room. It was a boy, maybe only eleven or twelve. He was wearing tan cargo shorts that seemed to have hundreds of pockets, an orange long-sleeved shirt, and a puffy black vest. His long brown hair fell in front of his eyes. He also wore a blue, backwards baseball cap. He couldn't have been more than five feet tall. A small, puppy-like Pokemon hid behind his legs; its orange fur matching the color of the kid's shirt.

"Carly! Stop it!" the young boy said, his voice cracking.

"Uh, kid? What're you doing in my room?" Liz asked, confused.

The boy picked up his Growlithe and sighed, "Well, we heard you cryin' and screamin', so I wanted to come see what was wrong…that's all." The boy turned around to leave, but before he could get out, his Growlithe jumped out his hands and bolted towards Liz.

"Grooowwwwwwlll!" it cried, jumping up onto Liz's chest. Liz had no idea what do to when suddenly; the puppy began to lick her face. She couldn't help but laugh. The boy, blushing, ran over and retrieved his Pokemon and began to scold her for her behavior.

"Sorry, miss…she's real young and I…" before he could finish, the door slammed shut. Nurse Joy was back, and in her hand was a Pokeball.

"Here's your Pokemon, Ms. Argenta…" the nurse said, her back towards the two kids. Her voice was odd, different. Liz couldn't quite put her finger on it. It seemed malicious, along the lines of evil. Maybe it was the heavy medication. Liz could have sworn her hair was not red. It was almost a blue-green color, and it wasn't even curly. Again, the medication was to blame.

_Something's not right…_


End file.
